


Pie

by perpetuallycaffeinated



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Food Sex, M/M, Pie, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-22
Updated: 2012-05-22
Packaged: 2017-11-05 20:01:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/410441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perpetuallycaffeinated/pseuds/perpetuallycaffeinated
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean uses pie to eat out Castiel. That's pretty much it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pie

Golden flaky crust, crumbling at the barest touch, sliding into a thick, sugary crust with small slivers to hint at the bright red cherry filling in a way that Dean wouldn’t even think twice to call slutty. This was a slutty pie.   
  
Dean leaned down for a closer look, nostrils flaring slightly as he took in the smell as well; oh, he was going to owe Sammy for grabbing this for him. His brother was gone now, retreating to the library to do research and hit on hot, equally nerdy librarians. Dean didn’t know where his little brother had found this pie. When Sam had slid it onto the table before ducking out the door, his world had narrowed down to the steaming wonder resting before him. He’d find out what heavenly diner Sam had found this pie at later, right now--  
  
The word “heavenly” set off a bell in Dean’s head, mixing a new idea with that of the piping hot cherry pie. Doing his best to try and keep a straight face, the hunter put his palms together and closed his eyes. He didn’t expect an answer, but he couldn’t pass up a chance like this.   
  
He and the angel...did things. Rather, they did “things,” slipped in between quotation marks the way their acts were slipped into spare minutes, squeezed into fast hurried presses in dark corners. Dean hadn’t talked to Castiel about it, and the angel didn’t press it, happy to have hands and a mouth against him when he wasn’t in heaven fighting a war against his own brothers.   
  
“Our Cas, who art...somewhere,” he murmured, briefly regretting the use of the word ‘our.’ Dean was almost never greedy when it came to others, save for Castiel. With Sam, it was a self-sacrificing love; Dean got _pissy_ when Castiel’s attention was drawn away from him.   
  
“I dunno if you’ve got time or not, but if you want to come down here, I’ve got some angel shore leave for you,” he murmured, trying to send a big, dirty wave of intent along with his words. Dean still didn’t know exactly how praying to Castiel worked, but it was worth a shot.   
  
His prayer sent, there was little else for Dean to do but lean back in his chair and stare down the pie, exerting every bit of his willpower to not pounce then and there. Some part of his suggestion must have gotten through the heavenly airwaves, because Castiel fluttered into existence less than two minutes later, looking intrigued but confused.   
  
“I’m not a sailor, Dean. I do not require shore leave.”  
  
“Sure you do,” Dean replied, relieved that Cas had gotten here before he’d gone ahead and inhaled the pie by himself. Dragging the other chair around to his side of the table, he patted the seat. “Come on. Sammy left me a pie while he has happy moose time in the library.”   
  
Castiel gave him a suspicious look, but sat down beside him. Looking back and forth between Dean and the pie, he extended one hand over it, giving the crust an exploratory poke. Before Dean thought to reprimand him, the angel poked again, harder this time so that his index finger punctured the crust to sink into the bright red, sticky insides.  
  
“Cas, there’s a fork right there!” Dean said, reaching out to grab one of the utensils. The angel ignored him for a moment, pulling his finger out of the pie to lick it clean thoughtfully. Swallowing thickly at the sight, Dean scooped a bite of pie into his mouth before loading up his fork again. This time he offered the bite to Castiel, who still looked thoughtful after the first taste. “Come on,” Dean coaxed. “If you get the right pie, it can be better than sex.”   
  
The angel’s eyes narrowed, mouth pursing out towards the fork in front of him. Dean knew he’d piqued his curiosity; for all his angelic posturing, Castiel was willing to try pleasures of the flesh when they were introduced by the older Winchester brother. When he hesitated, Dean brought the fork closer, bumping the tip up against Castiel’s lips. The angel gave a disapproving huff, but his mouth slid open, letting Dean push the piece of pie inside. Jaw working slowly, Castiel looked up and to the side as he chewed, considering the taste of what Dean had given him.   
  
“I can see why you’d consider it good,” he said, “but I can’t say that it holds up to the sensations of physical coupling.”   
  
Dean just snorted and wrapped his free hand around the leg of Castiel’s chair, pulling the sullen angel closer. “Yeah, I know I’m good,” he replied, mouth tilting into a smirk as he tugged Cas even closer, practically pulling the angel onto his lap. “But the pie’s gotta come at least close, doesn’t it?”   
  
“No.”   
  
Dean’s ego swelled a bit at the sound of Castiel’s firm assertion; Cas liked the way he touched him better than the best cherry pie in the world, did he? Mentally preening himself in congratulations, Dean pulled Cas the rest of the way into his lap and dug the fork into the pie again. He normally wasn’t one to cuddle, but Castiel’s roundabout compliments were making Dean handsy. As he slid another bite of pie into Cas’ mouth, his free hand slid under the man’s coat to rub little circles over his hip.   
  
“Nh--Dean--” Castiel made a little confused murmur as Dean’s hand roamed over his stomach, but the hunter just pressed his lips against Cas’ neck, not so much kissing as caressing the skin with his mouth and tongue. Castiel grunted at the sensation, his body arching in a way that pushed his ass harder against Dean’s groin. As he chewed, he squirmed in Dean’s lap, one hand reaching behind him to hold the man’s head in place.   
  
The squirming coupled with the soft, desperate sounds of the angel in his lap went straight to Dean’s cock. As he continued to worry and bite at the crook of Castiel’s neck he could feel himself start to swell and grow in his jeans against the curve of Cas’ ass.  
  
“How about we get you out of these clothes,” he croaked. Following his libido’s orders, Dean dropped the fork and grabbed Castiel’s coat with both hands, helping the other man shrug it off before pulling off his blazer as well. Castiel didn’t resist, but did nothing to help. His approach to sex had surprised Dean at first, but now he’d come to expect it; the angel would get too wrapped up in the current pleasure to try and progress to the next stage. Pushing Cas’ hands away, Dean quickly popped his shirt buttons open, slipping his hands inside to stroke the soft planes of skin and tweak a nipple, already perked and hard under his touch. He couldn’t help but chuckle when his efforts were rewarded by a sharp gasp and a renewed effort to try and grind into his crotch.   
  
“Fuckin’ freckle...” he groaned, biting the fleshy lobe of Castiel’s ear as he rubbed his fingers over the small, dark mark next to the angel’s right nipple. The idea of a large freckle in that location would have struck Dean as ridiculous on anyone else, but on Cas it was just another quirk to lavish with attention. “What’s that, an angel kiss? Gonna make me jealous,” he teased, sliding the tip of his tongue along the curve of Castiel’s ear.  
  
“Dean, no other has kissed my chest,” Castiel panted, twisting to give a disapproving glare. “And it has always been on my vessel. Kissing does not cause intense pigmentation, and I would much rather you stop talking and take more of my clothes of--mnh--”   
  
The angel’s indignant tirade was cut short by Dean’s mouth. He laughed as he pressed a kiss against Cas’ lips to get him back on track, sliding his tongue inside to soothe Castiel’s prickly attitude towards earthly turns of phrase. There was another grumble or two before Castiel melted under Dean’s attention, letting him push both slacks and boxer shorts down and off of his body.   
  
“Go lay down on your stomach, kay?” Dean breathed into his ear. Castiel nodded, standing up on legs that had suddenly become shaky and weak from lust. Despite his protests, he didn’t move to shed his shirt before flopping face-first onto the bed.   
  
Dean was a man of action, but he made himself sit and take in the sight for a moment. Castiel was always rumpled, but he looked completely undone now. They hadn’t even really done anything, and Castiel was spread out on the bed like he’d fallen onto the bed right out of a blasphemous wet dream. When Castiel caught him staring, the angel stared right back. It was an inherently submissive position, but Dean knew (from many repeated experiences) that this creature could command authority and power from the most compromising sexual position. Whether on his knees with Dean’s cock pushing past his lips or flat on his back getting fucked straight back to Paradise, Castiel never seemed _weak._  
  
Now, when Cas raised his ass for Dean’s view like a bitch in heat, it was as much a silent demand as a sign of need. Dean could practically hear Cas’ voice in his head: _I’m an angel of the lord. Now do me._  
  
Dean’s view flicked back and forth between the pie and Castiel, an idea forming in his mind. He’d never done it before, not even with that wild girl who’d coaxed him into a pair of silk panties. Most of Dean’s sexual liaisons were quick and carefree, not the right context for doing  _that_ . You could catch crap from that, and it wasn’t as easy as just slapping on a rubber before going to town.   
  
Not that he and Castiel were “official.” Dean swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to push the thought away. Cas was horny, and his pants were off; this wasn’t the time to be poking around feelings. He wanted to do this, and he wasn’t going to catch anything from Cas. If anything,  _he_  was the filthy one in this pair.   
  
His mind made up, Dean grabbed the pie and crawled onto the bed behind Castiel. He ignored the fork, scooping up a bit of the pie filling to smear across Castiel’s ass cheek. The angel twitched at the sensation, but didn’t move away.   
  
“Dean...?”  
  
“Ssh. I just want to see what cherry tastes like mixed with nerd angel.” Dean chuckled, slapping the other side of Castiel’s ass. When the angel squirmed around, trying to kick him in the head from his position, Dean just laughed harder and swooped in to lave his tongue across the sticky filling. He felt Castiel shiver under his tongue, and couldn’t help biting down on the soft flesh of his ass, sucking until he heard a low moan from further up the bed.  
  
“There we go,” he murmured, sliding his hands up the back of Castiel’s thighs. “That feel good, Cas?”  
  
The only answer was a soft whimper from Cas as the man angled his hips higher, asking for more. Dean pressed on, continuing to tease him with long swipes of his tongue as he massaged the crease of his thighs. Once all of the filling was licked clean, Dean dipped his fingers back into the pie tin. However, this time he used his free hand to part Castiel’s ass and smear it over his opening. He saw Cas’ ass flex in anticipation, and he couldn’t help his grin from widening. Dean didn’t know if Castiel was just expecting this to be foreplay, but he was definitely enjoying it.   
  
Keeping his ass spread with one hand, Dean smoothed the filling over Cas’ hole, licking and kissing the sensitive skin where the small of Castiel’s back met the swell of his ass. This prompted more wiggles from the man underneath him, but it was in an effort to press closer to his fingers and tongue, not kick him.   
  
Dean continued to rub the outside of Castiel’s opening, never applying pressure more than that it took to barely press the pad of his thumb inside the ring of muscle. He’d never payed attention to this part of a person, whether a sexual partner or himself. The reaction it was getting from Castiel was, to put it bluntly, shocking. Every stroke over the ring of muscle sent a jolt through the angel’s body. In less than a minute, Castiel was spreading his legs open wider, moaning for more. He wasn’t touching himself, but Dean could see Castiel’s cock hanging thick and hard between his legs.  
  
He’d been planning on surprising Castiel with his tongue, but the angel’s habit of responding to surprises in bed with blunt force trauma to Dean’s head made him change tactics.  
  
“I’m going to touch it with my tongue now, Cas,” he husked, biting down on a part of the man’s ass that hadn’t already been smothered in attention. Dean waited till he got a wiggle of consent before adding even more pie filling to the furrow of Castiel’s ass. He didn’t doubt that Cas would enjoy the sensation after a moment of surprise; that just wasn’t one concussion he wanted to explain to Sam later.   
  
The first swipe of his tongue over Castiel’s opening tasted of nothing but sweet cherry pie. Dean repeated the action, pressing his tongue flat over the sensitive area till the familiar taste of Cas’ skin joined the mix. It was a heady taste, only enhanced by the noises Cas was making, soft gasps and whispers of the hunter’s name.   
  
If Dean had had any inhibitions about this, they quickly dissolved into nothing. With his face buried in Castiel’s perfect ass, he experimented with different ways of making the angel shake for him. Quick flicks of his tongue that just barely caught the center of the hole made Castiel jump and gasp, while slow, lazy rings traced around the contours of the muscle made his thighs shake. Dean got the crazy feeling that he was learning to draw new angel sigils with the tip of his tongue, strange secret ones that only worked between the two of them that left Castiel sobbing and undone before him.  
  
Pulling off for another generous helping of pie filling, Dean stroked Castiel’s ass, now pink and sticky from his attention.   
  
“When I get back in there,” he said, “I want you to touch yourself. Jerk yourself off while I fuck you with my tongue, got it?”  
  
Dean was glad he’d sat up on his knees before asking, because he would have kicked himself in the head if he missed this view. Ass still raised in the air, Castiel twisted to look back at Dean over his shoulder. Still in his rumpled shirt, he slid both of his hands down between his legs. Dean couldn’t see his hands, but he saw Castiel’s mouth fall open in a little “o,” eyes fluttering shut as he finally wrapped his hands around his cock. As often as they’d fucked, he’d never seen Castiel like this, spread and lazily taking pleasure from Dean’s mouth, his own hands. Before, the angel had seemed overwhelmed by the pleasure; now, he seemed to own it, revelling in every shiver.   
  
Dean felt himself throb in his jeans at the sight, but he ignored his own need. It was about time Castiel got something like this. Hell, he deserved this, deserved it a thousand times over.   
  
Filled with a new resolve, Dean spread Castiel wide and pushed back in, licking over him again once, twice before starting to slide his tongue inside. He heard Castiel groan, felt him push back against his face, demanding more as he was finally penetrated by Dean’s warm, wet muscle. It was just the tip of his tongue at first, flicking past the tight ring. Then, as Castiel quickly loosened up, Dean tilted his head, pressing in further. He needed to get as much of his tongue inside of Cas as was humanly possible, fill the angel up to the brim with pleasure till he spilled over.   
  
Dean curled his tongue inside of Cas, wringing a desperate, sharp cry out of the angel, and he couldn’t hold back any more. Shoving one hand down between his legs, Dean rubbed himself off through his jeans like a horny teenager as he continued to tonguefuck Castiel, moaning against his ass.   
  
The vibrations pushed Castiel over the edge, gasping and jolting with the force of a full-body orgasm as he came over his hands. Dean’s tongue was still inside Cas as he orgasmed, and  _fuck_  if he couldn’t feel the muscles in his ass shiver as he came. It was weird, it was new, and it was hot, and Dean wasn’t even ashamed as he came in his jeans.   
  
Dean had enjoyed himself, but Castiel was reduced to a tangle of shaking, gasping afterglow. Proud of his newfound skill, Dean crawled up the bed and tilted Castiel’s face to meet his.   
  
“I’d say you taste pretty good with cherry on top,” he teased. Castiel didn’t seem to catch the humor, choosing that moment to surge forward and lock lips with Cas. Dean tried to pull back--he’d just had his mouth on Castiel’s asshole, for pete’s sake--but Cas held him firm. After a few seconds, Dean gave up and let the stubborn angel explore his mouth.   
  
Just as he was getting into the kiss, Castiel pulled back and murmured something against Dean’s cheek with an air of grave consideration.   
  
“This pie is not better than sex, but it is better  _with_  sex.”  
  
Dean just laughed and pulled Castiel in for another cherry-flavored kiss.


End file.
